Bond Of Brothers
by rednwhite
Summary: A fun little story involving one of Ducky's old friends. Usual disclaimers apply! Please review it's always appreciated! Pre season 3 we're a bit behind in the UK.
1. Chapter 1

**Bond of Brothers**

"What have you got for me Ducky?" Gibbs pushed through the swinging doors to the pathology lab while pulling on his coffee.

"Good morning Jethro. We have a most interesting case. You know, it takes me back to my youth. Look here…." Dr Mallard took the head of the cadaver lying on his table and turned it so that the base of the skull was looking at Gibbs.

There was a shaved area at the nape of the neck, and in the middle of it a tiny puncture mark.

Jethro leant in, studying the tiny hole closely, coffee never far from his lips. "Is that cause of death?"

"It would appear so. I would say a nine inch long spike. It would have been driven up through the base of the cerebellum into the cranial cavity, stopping behind the eyes," Ducky continued matter of fact-like while Gibbs winced slightly. "the sort of thing that would be missed by your average ME in the sixties. Quick, painless, silent and very well practiced. This is absolutely typical of many men I saw on my table during the cold war Jethro."

"This man was in extremely good health…." Ducky waved in the direction of the rest of the body as if to prove his point. Sure enough the man on the slab was well muscled, not like a body builder but more like a man who had seen hard physical activity for every day of his life. "But there is something else. Here…"

Ducky guided Gibbs around to the other side of the body and gave him a magnifying glass, pointing at a tiny tattoo on the man's shoulder. Gibbs examined it closely.

Standing up straight, he turned his attention and looked seriously at Ducky. "'Who dares wins' and a dagger?"

"That's right Jethro - there is someone killing SAS officers here in the States, and judging by their methods it's certainly someone who knows what they're doing and is used to evading capture."

"Ducky, do you have any contacts nearby with connections to the SAS who might be able to help identify this man or even help finding someone with this MO?"

Ducky smiled. "You know me Jethro. Here!"

He reached into his top pocket beneath his lab-coat and pulled out his wallet. After a few seconds rifling through a thick and worn collection of business cards he passed one over to Gibbs.

"We served together on HMS Ark Royal for a while. He was a most, er…" Ducky searched for an appropriate word "_efficient_ officer. Made it to Commander I believe before branching out into more Black-Ops type fields. He looked me up a few years ago after retiring to Maryland. I'm sure he'll be happy to help!"

Gibbs stared at the card in his hand then shifted his gaze to Ducky to see if this was a joke being played on him but Ducky was already deeply involved with something to do with a microscope and a petri dish.

He smiled as he pulled out his cell-phone, turning to leave while dialing the number on the card.


	2. Chapter 2

"So Kate, What do you think?" Tony adopted a thinker style pose, one foot on his chair, elbow on his knee and head on his hand – it was a pose typically struck by the cheapest corniest catalogue models, complete with cheesy grin.

McGee looked on smiling.

Kate stifled a laugh. Tony was an egotistical chauvinist, an irritating partner and a bully to subordinates when Gibbs was not about. He was also kind, thoughtful and she trusted him completely – and he made her laugh too - though sometimes he had no idea he was doing it.

She looked at him, amused and bemused by turns. "Sorry Tony. What do I think of what?"

"C'mon Kate." Dramatically he ripped off his sunglasses with one hand before putting them back on. "Classic Raybans baby! Three hundred bucks a pair and worth every cent! Oh yeah!"

She chuckled "I'm quite sure Tom Cruise would have absolutely loved them…..twenty years ago!"

Tony moved from his stance by his desk and coolly swaggered over to Kate's removing his sunglasses, waving them at Kate to emphasize a point. "There are certain classic designs that never go out of fashion Kate." Again he slid the glasses on. "Iconic styles that will forever remain objects of desire!"

"Quite right young man. Some things will always appeal to a beautiful woman!" The voice, to his surprise, had come from his right side. He turned to see who had addressed him. He was used to being ambushed by Gibbs but he prided himself that nobody else could manage it - until now that was.

In front of him stood a tall gentleman of around six feet four inches, of indeterminate age and military posture. He was older than Gibbs though certainly and still obviously fit and active. He had short grey/white hair cur short and neat and a perfectly trimmed goatee beard. He had an English accent with a burr of Scottish inflection to it.

He wore a dark blue double breasted blazer and Royal Navy tie with grey pants and highly polished black shoes.

He had dark twinkling eyes and the charismatic winning smile he shot towards Kate made Tony feel a slight, irrational surge of jealousy.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Don't be so rude to our guest DiNozzo!" Gibbs clipped him smartly about the back of his head, knocking his glasses off.

"Dammit!" Tony muttered to himself, bending down to pick up his glasses, fingering the cracked lens. Ambushed twice in two minutes!

Walking to the side of his guest Gibbs said "Allow me to introduce you to my colleagues. I'm afraid to say that they will be assisting us sir!"

Tony, Kate and Tim immediately sprang up to attention. They had picked up on Gibbs calling him sir – that meant they were in the company of someone that Gibbs felt deserved the moniker and they were pretty few and far between.

"This is Special Agents Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee and Caitlin Todd!"

The visitor reached and shook the hands of Tony and Tim before taking Kate's offered hand and drawing to his lips kissed the back of her hand saying "Always a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman!"

Kate flushed to her roots and smiled, unable to say anything.

'Man! this guy is good!' Tony thought to himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch you name?" Tim asked, somewhat self consciously.

"How rude of me!" the visitor answered. He let go of Kate's hand and addressed them all. "I was a commander in Her Majesty's Royal Navy. My name is Bond, James Bond!"


	3. Chapter 3

They all took the elevator down to Pathology. Gibbs and Bond stood at the doors, Kate, Tony and Tim stood behind them open mouthed only able to keep exchanging shocked looks.

The elevator stopped and Bond stood aside allowing Kate to exit in front of him. Tony recovered his composure to mutter in a hushed voice to him "Why do you British guys do that?"

Bond's eyes remained fixed ahead as they walked out. "Manners cost nothing my dear fellow," His reply was muted to match Tony's "and the ladies appreciate it. Apart from that the stroll is so much more pleasant if they're walking in front of you!" slyly he turned back to Tony and McGee, shot them a kind of crooked half-smile and winked at them.

As he walked ahead of them McGee turned to Tony. "You don't think he meant…..?"

"Probie – what else could he mean?" he cuffed McGee around the back of the head and walked behind the others practising his own half smile when he thought nobody was looking.

Ducky looked up from his paperwork at the sound of the doors swinging open. "You've got a visitor Ducky!" Gibbs called.

"Commander! It's good to see you!"

The two men met in the middle of the room, shaking hands warmly.

"You're looking well Ducky. The years have been kind!"

"As always Commander, you flatter me. So how are the badges of honour?"

"Well, three of the bullet wounds still ache on the first frosty day of the year and I get a couple of niggly aches from the broken pelvis and the dislocated shoulder."

"Well Commander I don't think those two particular badges of honour have anything to do with her majesty's service now do they?" Ducky smiled conspiratorially with his old friend.

Ducky turned to his gathered colleagues. "This, gentlemen and lady is my old friend Commander Bond. He may be able to help us I feel in this case. You know, in his day he was quite the legend!" he rested his hand on the commander's shoulder proudly.

"It was a while ago ducky. You know, I'm probably a bit rusty." He turned to Gibbs "I wonder if I may have a few rounds at your range Special Agent Gibbs?"

"I don't have a problem with you using the range commander but as a civilian I can't let you out in the field armed."

"Mr Gibbs," the commander walked forward and placed a hand on Gibbs' shoulder and looked him earnestly in the eye, speaking quietly "I think you will find my licence covers the use of a gun in the _execution _of any of my duties and it has a while to go before it expires."

The emphasis on the word execution was not wasted on Gibbs. He was unhappy with the thought of this man carrying a gun but there was something that couldn't be argued with about him. "As long as I don't have to do any paperwork then fine."

"Ah! That reminds me commander," Ducky chimed in "I have something of yours in my office – just wait a moment will you?"

Ducky disappeared in to his office for a minute and returned carrying a long wooden box. "You never collected this when you were summoned away from the Ark Royal so suddenly. I have kept it with me hoping for the chance to pass it on."

Bond rested the box on one of Ducky's drawers and opened it, smiling as he saw the contents. Inside were his dress sword and a handgun.

He took out the sword, unsheathed and swished it from side to side checking the balance. The bright lights flashed off the razor sharp edge. "And thanks for keeping it so clean Ducky." He returned it to the sheath, replaced it and withdrew the various components of his old handgun, all dutifully oiled, cleaned and working.

With a few well practised movements and some loud snaps and cracks of assembly he was soon staring down the barrel of a fully functional though unloaded Walther PPK.

"Sorry Commander, your old faithful Beretta 0.25 wasn't salvageable, but I think you'll get along fine with that." Ducky smiled.

The Commander hefted it in his hand feeling the contours like and old familiar ornament. "Actually Ducky I have become rather attached to these since the old days. Come on, let's get off to the range – do you still have your old service revolver?"

"She hasn't been fired in a while commander – the Hippocratic Oath and all that!"

"I bet she's as bright as a new pin though."

"I'll just go get her commander."

With that Ducky turned and ran back to his office returning in the blink of an eye, grinning like an excited school boy, hand rammed firmly into his pocket concealing the weapon he had just collected.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he beamed "Let's go!"

With that the two old friends walked out to the elevator talking between themselves. The somewhat bemused occupants of the mortuary followed in stunned silence.


	4. Chapter 4

He sat at the end of the bar nursing a neat vodka. He was a man in his late fifties, steel grey eyes, stocky build, balding and a couple of day's beard growth on his scarred and pitted face. On the few occasions that he spoke there was a faintly discernable exotic accent that wouldn't be noticeable to any but the most expert linguist.

He extinguished a cigarette in the ashtray on the bar, knocked back the drink on the bar and lit another cigarette immediately. The noise of his hacking cough filled the air after his first puff.

He looked down the room across the empty seats to the end of the bar where the barman stood cleaning glasses in a grubby tee-shirt. He caught his eye and the old man rapped the bar impatiently for a refill.

The bartender sighed heavily and shuffled slowly toward other end. "You gotta be kidding me! Its ten thirty in the morning and this is your fourth double vodka in half an hour! You trying to kill yourself old man?" he took the glass and refilled it, pushing it carelessly back over towards his aging patron.

The old man took a pull on his cigarette, blowing the smoke across the bar in the direction of the barman. He regarded him through narrowed eyes "Just pour the drinks. I'm sure you'll have no problems spending the money I pay you after I'm gone." To prove a point he drained his glass in one. "Again!" he demanded staring steel-eyed through layers of reeking cloying smoke at the bartender as if challenging his authority.

The bartender had worked the trade long enough to know the type of man in front of him. He was the strong quiet type who easily slipped unnoticed into the background wherever he was, obviously a hardened drinker but wouldn't cause any trouble unless provoked in which case the safest place to be would probably be the next state. Well, he wasn't going to be the one to start something so he poured the requested drink and quickly returned to cleaning the glasses. This wasn't a customer who was going to pour out his innermost feelings and secrets, and looking at him the bartender really wasn't sure he wanted to hear them anyway.

As he was casually rubbing away at some of the more stubborn smears a group of four sailors walked past the window, looked and in and pushed their way through the door. They were all in good spirits, laughing and joking. One of them pushed to the front and called up four beers which the barman dutifully began pouring.

"You boys just in?" the bartender asked conversationally.

The old man watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye.

"Sure are – just docked, we've got three weeks leave, this is day one and god help Washington 'cos here we come!"

His shipmates raised their newly filled glasses and cheered with him.

The old man watching quietly, knocked another back and sat watching the new arrivals for ten minutes or so before walking to their apparent leader, muttering something quietly in his ear then heading out the front door.

The young sailor chugged the rest of his beer, slammed it on the bar and announced to his buddies "Guys, this could be a chance too good to pass up. I'll be back in five minutes – hopefully a classic soft-top Mustang!"

"Yeah? We'll be waiting!" the sceptical reply came.

The barman watched the exchange. Something didn't seem quite right, but he couldn't quite place it so he let the seaman leave the bar without a word.

In later weeks he would sit back on quiet evenings wondering if he should have just mentioned something, but he knew it wouldn't have made any difference. The young sailors that came through his joint were all the same – loud, full of fight and as quick to laughter and they were all immortal to a man.

At least that's what they thought.

It would have made no difference. He didn't have anything tangible that he could point at as being suspicious about the guy; it was just a gut feeling.

That's all, just a gut feeling. There was no room in today's world for those.


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs, DiNozzo, Todd and McGee stood looking at the two targets side by side after they had been shuttled back to the end of the range. On Commander Bond's target there was a ragged mess in the centre of the body - every single bullet entering an area no larger than three inches in diameter except one which was dead centre between the target's imaginary eyes.

"That target is not going to be shooting at any of us in the near future" Tony mumbled.

They moved their attention to Ducky's target. It was not as precise as the commanders' but the grouping was still excellent, easily good enough to pass any range test.

"Not bad Ducky!"

"Why thank you Kate. Not to the commander's standard I know – I'm a bit rusty."

"You flatter me Ducky." Commander Bond interrupted smoothly. "Ducky was always a natural – he chose, in the end, a far more honorable path and put down his gun. We joined the Black Watch together as teenagers you know?"

"The Black Watch? I knew you served aboard ship but had no idea you were infantry there for a while?" Gibbs asked, actually interested.

"Well Jethro, I'm sure I've mentioned it!" Gibbs had the decency to smile guiltily, knowing full well that it was entirely possible that Ducky could have told him about every living moment of his misspent youth.

"Well we must have joined up, oh, nearly fifty years ago. Of course, our parents hated the idea – said we should get some more education before going off gallivanting around the world…"

Commander Bond gave a snort of laughter. "Your mother was absolutely livid. She thought you were going to go off with the first floozy you met!"

Ducky cleared his throat "Yes, well. I'm sure that was all down to your influence Commander!"

"Come on Ducky. You taught me all I know!"

A universal arching of eyebrows at this comment was interrupted by Gibbs phone ringing.

"Gibbs!…….Sure. Any idea how?...Really! We're on our way!"

"Fancy a trip out into the city Commander. It looks like our killer has struck again outside a bar in downtown."

Ducky and Bond holstered their weapons as everyone began moving toward the elevator. "SAS again Gibbs?" Bond asked.

"Nope, one of ours this time."

"Ah! 'Nemo me impune lacessit'!"

"Indeed commander, indeed!"

**A/N: For a bit of background, the Black Watch is a highland regiment amongst whose notable members was a certain Ian Fleming.**

**'Nemo me impune lacessit' is their motto. It means nobody attacks (or touches) me with impunity.**


End file.
